Why
by Nope
Summary: From Dinah's point of view on her love for Helena. Now added Helena's POV.
1. Why?

Note: Here's a new fic. It's a short one and it's very angsty so be warned. Also this has a women in love with another women, don't like it don't read it.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them.  
  
She doesn't love me. I know she doesn't. How could she? To her I'm just an annoyance. Someone to pick on. Someone who gets in the way. I'm too young, too immature. Does that make me unlovable? She has someone else anyway. Someone older, wiser, and more attractive then I could ever hope to be. I hate it.  
  
I hate it because I love her. I want to be the one who she looks at like that. With a grin that has something more behind it. It'll never happen though. And so I hate him, for taking what wasn't mine, but what could've been. . .maybe.  
  
She's perfect in everyway, every shape, and every form. Her dark leather. Her cocky attitude. The way she fights. The way she talks. Her voice is so smooth and refreshing. I love it. I love her. So why can't she love me?  
  
That's the million-dollar question for me. Why? I love her so much that it hurts to be away from her. At the same time, it hurts to be near her. It's so confusing, and it makes my heart ache. Constrict, until I feel like it's going to explode.  
  
I sometimes wonder that if I was older if she'd be mine. If she would hold me at night. If I would wake up to her in the morning. I wonder, but that's all it is, wondering. I wonder what it's like to be held by her. To be kissed by her. Her lips on mine, her tongue on mine. It's all I can do, and it kills me just a little bit more every time. Wondering, imagining, and knowing that it won't affect reality. It kills me.  
  
I found a way to kill the pain though. No, not kill it, only dull it. I have to wear long sleeves now to cover the marks, and I think they're starting to suspect something. I try to act happy for them, but it can't. It's too hard. Instead I rake the knife across my arm, my wrists, or my legs. Whatever I feel like. The physical pain just makes it easier to deal. I want to stop, but I can't. . .or maybe I don't want to. I'm not too sure anymore.  
  
It's getting harder though. The pain doesn't seem to ever stop. And I can't ever stop the knife, or don't want to. Which ever. It's wearing down the team. My depression that is. They want to know why I won't do sweeps anymore. What if I get hurt? Then they'd find out my secret. I can't let that happen.  
  
I go to the breakfast table, and I sit there. Just sit, no talking. They try to talk though. To fill the empty space. Asking me questions that I either ignore or answer as briefly as possible. It doesn't matter to me anymore. Even though I know it should. Even though I want it to so much. It doesn't. The pain just blocks it all out.  
  
I want to feel. I really do. Something, anything besides the constant pain. I don't know how much more I can take. It consumes me. Controlling my actions, my thoughts. That's why I know it has to end soon.  
  
I saw Reese storm out of the tower today. He's been doing that a lot lately. Leaving angry. Him and Helena have been fighting. But I know that deep down they do love each other. And so their fights hurt as much as their kissing. Helena sat down at the table. She was talking about Reese. And I didn't want to hear it. It only makes it hurt worse. It's started then. The pain doubled. And I did something I've never done before. I ran to my room and cut myself. I never do it in the morning. Only at night when no one can hear it. When no one will come looking.  
  
When I came back out, Helena and Barbara were still talking. Let them, I don't care. Except that I do. Liar. I couldn't take it anymore. It needed to end. Which is why I'm here now.  
  
It's late, and I'm sitting on the balcony railing outside the clock face. I discarded the knife a while ago. The blood dripping down my arms is refreshing. It's further than I've ever let myself go before. Eventually the knife just became too heavy. So now I sit, and I think about what could never be mine.  
  
Everything has gotten blurry. And I feel like I'm underwater. There's a noise. I think it's a door, but I can't be sure. "Dinah! Dinah, what have you done? Why?" I think it might be Helena.  
  
I know I'm dying. I don't have much energy left, but she needs to know. I need her to know. "I love you." I wonder if she even heard it.  
  
"Dinah, you have to stay awake. Please don't die." She's pleading now. It's not my choice anymore though. I can't come back even if I wanted to.  
  
"Can't." This only seems to make her sob harder.  
  
"You can't die. You can't. I know that I figured this out a little late, but I love you Dinah." I'm almost gone. I think I heard her say she loves me. I know she doesn't, but it's a nice thought. Something to accompany me wherever it is I wind up. Even though without her, heaven could still be hell.  
  
THE END  
  
Note: I love that angst. Any reviews would be welcome, let me know what you thought. 


	2. How?

Note: Here it is folks the follow up I've been asked to do from Helena's point of view. Hope you enjoy it with all its angsty goodness. Also I should've mentioned in the last chapter that this thing contains character death, sorry.  
  
Disclaimer: This is the worst part right here having to admit that I don't own them.  
  
How? How could this have happened to us? Us, the birds of prey. Super heroes that protect the city. How can one of us be dead? God damn it! It's not fucking fair! Why here! My throat burns from the screaming I've done, but I can't find it within me to care right now. How could I when I'm holding here, dead in my arms?  
  
Her head's cradled in my lap, and I've never felt so. . . so. I don't know. . . empty I guess is the word. Even in death she looks beautiful. Her golden blond hair, it smelt like peaches. I don't know why I remember that, but I do. I'll never see those vibrant blue eyes again.  
  
The blood that had been pouring from her writs stopped a while ago. I don't remember how long ago it was, or how long I watch as it continued to flow out of her after she died. But it doesn't anymore, and it never will again. How can that be fair? I don't even think she realized what I was telling her at the end. I don't know if she was even alive when I said it.  
  
I know that she had been depressed lately. Lately isn't exactly the right word, she had been depressed for months. At the exact time I started dating Reese. It started slow, her not talking sometimes, her eyes gaining a dull look. Nothing to worry about, or so I thought.  
  
Later on Barbara and I started getting worried. She wouldn't do sweeps anymore, and she loved sweeps. She always wore long sleeves to, even refusing to train. I should've seen this coming sooner; I know I should've. How couldn't I? I'm Helena Kyle, Huntress, I have feral eyes perfect for observation, but somehow this escaped my attention. Worthless, empty, hell I probably feel about as dead as Dinah does right now.  
  
She said that she loved me, and I think that it's why she did this. She saw me with Reese all the time, and I flirted shamelessly in front of her. God damn, I'm such a stupid, stupid bitch. This is my fault.  
  
This morning Reese and I had had another fight; we had been fighting a lot over the past month. It ended with us breaking up, and him storming out. He was always accusing me of cheating, saying that my mind was obviously on someone else. I realized too late that I didn't love him, although I was in love. We had been having sex that morning, and when I climaxed, it wasn't him I was thinking about, and it wasn't his name I screamed out. It was Dinah's.  
  
So, he left and I went to breakfast. Dinah seemed even less talkative, and she left breakfast without saying so much as good morning. I talked to Dinah, and we both agreed that something was obviously wrong, and also that she should see a shrink. Before she came back I spilled the news, the fact that I loved her. Barbara seemed shocked, but okay with it.  
  
Me being the stupid fuck up that I am though decided that I should wait to tell Dinah, that I should wait until she was better. And. . . Fuck! If I had just told her that morning, if I had just gone for it. It's like a hole has been torn in my stomach, and one by one my organs are dropping out.  
  
The guilt is just eating me alive, and not only that, but the fact that I don't know if she knows that I love her. I FUCKING LOVE DINAH LANCE! It feels good to keep screaming, cause I don't know what else I can do. I love her, and she said that she loves me. How can she? How can she love me when I've fucked up so badly?  
  
I don't know when I put her body down, but here I am on the railing, looking down at the city below me. Wonder how high up I am right now. It's a pretty good distance, I know that much. Barbara isn't here yet. How can she have slept through all the screaming I've done? Doesn't matter, I'm still just a stupid, pathetic, idiotic fuck up.  
  
That's it, a fuck up. I'm responsible for my loves death, and I hate myself for that. I've killed at person. The world doesn't need someone like me. I seem to have a killer touch, everyone I love dies. My mom, Dinah, if I stick around Barbara might bite it to. There's only one solution. I stand to my full height, spread my arms and lean forward.  
  
Gravity pulls me downward, and I'm in freefall. The wind ruffles my hair, my clothes, and for the first time since I saw that scene I feel like things will be okay. Like, I've done something right. I know that the pavement is closing in, and I await it. Who knows, maybe I'll meet up with Dinah. There's pressure, and a disgusting sound that I've never heard before and hope to never hear again, then there's nothing.  
  
Note: How's that for some more angst? You'll excuse all the cussing I hope; I just think that Helena would wind up with a sailor's mouth after something like this. I've been thinking about doing one more and putting it in Barbara's point of view, but I'm not to sure. Review and tell me A) what you thought of this part and B) if I should do another. 


	3. What?

Note: The third installment is here ladies and gents. I really hope you guys like this; it was sooooooo hard to write. I probably went through at least six beginnings before I found one that I even remotely liked and I still think that this is lacking a Barbara feel.  
  
Disclaimer: Did you read the first two chaps? I think it's been established that they're not mine.  
  
They're dead. It sounds so frighteningly final. It's hard to think straight with that thought floating around my head. I feel as though it's taunting me. What bothers me most right now is that I can't figure it out. The all- knowing oracle can't figure out why the two people closest to her committed suicide.  
  
The cops left long ago, leaving me to wallow in my loss. I take another swig of whiskey and revel at the burning in my throat as it washes down. I'm not typically one to drink, but this seemed like a worthy enough occasion to go for it.  
  
I saw them dead; after all, somebody had to identify the bodies. This thought brings me to tears as I see them again in my mind, and I almost think about joining them. . .almost. I can't do that yet though, I won't let myself before I figure out what they killed themselves for.  
  
Helena had told me that she figured out her love for Dinah. I was shocked to say the least; Helena in love with Dinah was something that hadn't even crossed my mind. Maybe that's why she killed herself. Dinah didn't requite her love, so Helena jumped and somehow Dinah found Helena and killed herself because of guilt. I take yet another drink before decided that it sounds moronic.  
  
What I have figured out is why people drink. I have to admit that after more than half a bottle of JD I feel significantly better. That is, until I notice the tears still running down my face, then, I just feel broken.  
  
There's only one way to get me out of my funk, first I finish off my bottle and search around for another one. I found another one, tequila this time; it brings back memories of happier days. Wheeling out of the kitchen just seems like too much work right now, so I'll stick around, and form some new theories.  
  
Dinah was depressed, for a long, long while, and that's another thing that I don't know why. Oh well, I think that she was cutting herself, but didn't think that confronting her was the best idea. Maybe Dinah killed herself first, and then Helena found her and thought that it was her fault so she jumped. That sounds about as half assed as my other ideas. For some reason I giggle at the word assed, the booze must be getting to me.  
  
What I wouldn't give for life to be simple. In a simple world there would be no suicide because problems are easily solved, every kind. More tequila, that's what I need, it'll solve my problem for me. So I down another gulp contemplating other ideas. By now I'm so drunk that all my theories seem like children's cartoons.  
  
All these thoughts are nice. . .oh wait, no there not. They're horribly depressing and I feel like a masochist for continuing to think about it. Oh well, pleasure from pain; it'll be my new motto. I'm giggling again at my drunken thoughts. It makes me think of the bar where Helena works worked, it requires conscious thought to correct myself and I wonder if that's a bad thing.  
  
I miss them so much. I'd even like to have the depressed version of Dinah around right now and she was no fun at all. I wish that I could have them back though, the sunshine Dinah, and the cocky-as-hell Helena. I want Huntress, I want Canary, I want my family! I want them back. It's not fair for them to go away and leave me here it's not.  
  
That's when I think about it again. And why shouldn't I? There's not much left for me here, just a teaching job, and that's not going to keep me from being lonely. Plenty of knives in the kitchen, or I could get some pills from the bathroom, I could even sit here and drink myself to death. I won't though, and the sad part is that I'm not even sure about why that is. I let out a self-depreciating laugh at my cowardice. That's right, I'm too cowardly to do it, years of being a super hero and facing some of the worst scum on the planet, and I'm afraid to commit suicide.  
  
My thoughts stray back to the matter at hand. I still don't know why they did it. Did what? Another part asks. They're still safely tucked away sleeping soundly through the night; they're. Just. Fine. And I'm starting to believe it to, when I wake up in the morning with the worst hangover of my life, Dinah and Helena will be there to hand me some Advil and water respectively. We'll be a family again, a nice, happy, living family. I'm so much happier here.  
  
The police came back the next morning, wanted some more info on my family. He keeps saying that they're dead, and ignoring me when I say otherwise. This isn't a very funny joke and I tell him as much. He looks at me strangely, like there's something wrong with me instead of him. Next thing I know is that they're trying to take me away. They stuck a needle in me and suddenly I'm very, very sleepy.  
  
I never saw them again after that; they must've given up and left or something cause I'm still here in the clock tower with my family. Every now and again though, I catch sight of something that looks like padding and hear voices from nowhere telling me to snap out of it. I pass it off, after all I'm with my family now, and we'll always be happy.  
  
Note: That ending was actually kinda creepy, and I really don't know if I like this whole POV part I wrote for Barbara. So here's the deal, if you didn't like it so much either, let me know and I'll try to do a re write. The one thing I won't do though is make it happy. Also, Kelley Gaither, suggested that I do one from Reese's POV. If I get two reviews tellin me to go for it, then I'll attempt to do one for Reese, if not, I won't bother. . .maybe. 


	4. When?

Note: I finally got the reviews I asked for so here's a chapter for Reese. I don't know how in character this is for Reese, but let's keep a few things in mind. 1) Reese is dealing with the loss of the one he loves. 2) I didn't pay too close of attention to him during the show because he bored me.  
  
Disclaimer: not mine  
  
I did love her. That much I do know. Sure, we had our fights, and I'll even admit that we had those more often than not. The fact still remains that I did love her, and I probably always will.  
  
At first we barely spoke to each other. I didn't trust her at that point. We collaborated on a few cases, mostly dealing with meta-humans. I always wanted more though. When I finally got her name, well, it was memorable to say the least. Finally she was no longer Huntress, but Helena Kyle.  
  
We started getting closer afterwards; meeting for lunch or coffee. After a little while I even got the privilege of being allowed inside the clock tower. I trusted all of them, Barbara, Dinah, and Helena. Even later, months later, I got my wish of dating Helena.  
  
For me, it was incredible; there wasn't a moment that I didn't enjoy. When I saw her smile, it made me smile. When I saw her angry, it was almost like my heart would stop beating because she just looked so beautiful. It was by no means a perfect relationship, but it was a happy one.  
  
Then that blond haired bitch had to ruin it. Helena told me about her concerns for Dinah, of course I felt sympathetic at the time, but I regret that now. Too bad she didn't stay wherever the hell it was she came from, then things would've stayed happy.  
  
As I made love to her that morning, all I could think of was how beautiful she looked. The sweat glistening on her body, the passionate look in her eyes. She was coming and I could feel it, but she didn't scream my name like she was supposed to. Instead she screamed that of the blond haired whore.  
  
Of course I was angry. I started dressing and yelling at her, and her being defiant like she was, yelled right back. I left, and I regret doing that more than I regret anything else I've ever done.  
  
So while I love Helena with all my being, I hate her companion. The one that she. . . she loved instead of me. It should've been me who held her love! It should've! But somehow Dinah wound up with it.  
  
When I found out that Helena died, a part of me died. When I found out that she, along with Dinah, committed suicide I died a little more. The reports stated that Dinah died a little before Helena, so I knew that Helena killed herself because of Dinah. When I figured that out I died even more.  
  
I hope that she rots in hell. I hope that demons torture her for all eternity. I hope that all she ever experiences from now on is pain. She took Helena from me! I don't even know how she did it.  
  
Maybe it was the depressed act. Get Helena to feel sorry for her, somehow get love that way. It wasn't Helena's fault though, it couldn't have been. I loved her and she loved me so that bitch had to have done something to change it. She's a witch and Hell is her destination.  
  
I'll admit that Helena never actually told me that she loved me, but I'm more than confident that she did. She was probably just waiting for the right time to tell me. Sure, she was distant sometimes especially later on in our relationship. Shying away from my touch or my kisses, but she did love me.  
  
It's a shame though, Dinah killing herself. Not that I care that she's dead, no that's not it. I'm just saying that I would've been more than happy to help her out. I had my gun; that would get the job done pretty fast. There were no plans to actually use it yet, but if Helena started dating Dinah, I would've killed that blond bimbo.  
  
I've been kicked off the force temporarily; they say that I have too much rage and grief right now. Dinah's fault once again. I wouldn't be so angry if Helena loved me, and Helena would love me if Dinah wasn't there, so it all comes back to her. I'd love to piss on her grave.  
  
I'll always love Helena though, and I hope that she's in heaven. As much as I hate to admit it, Dinah probably is to. So I can think of only one way to get my love back. Right now, my gun is looking very promising.  
  
Note: Please feed the feedback junkie and tell me what you thought. Also, helenakyle suggested a chappie for Alfred (my god you people are demanding : ) so, before I even attempt this, I'm going to need another two reviews although I can't promise the chapter. Unless I write something that I think is suitable, I won't post it. Thanks for the reviews and suggestions all. 


	5. Where?

Note: I just thought I'd add this here since I finally got an idea for it. It's not great; I can safely say that about it, but what the hell you know? This does continue with the running theme of character death so be warned. Here's Alfred's point of view.  
  
Disclaimer: sad to say that they're not mine.  
  
Where did I go wrong? Where did I lose them? Where along the years did my guidance become to little in use? They always leave me.  
  
I know that I should not complain, but I cannot help it. They've all left me, and I have nothing else. First it was Master Dick, then Master Bruce to whom I was loyal and Faithful for many years. I find myself unable to understand as to why he left me of all people. Was I not a good butler? Did I upset him? No, not to my knowledge, I suppose that he just needed to get away from everything.  
  
Then Miss Dinah left. I understood her plight though, I had not thought she would do it, but I did understand why she did. The person she loved was with another, and she was sure that any feelings would not be reciprocated. Before that, she was so bright, and filled with such sunshine. My day no longer feels as bright.  
  
After her was Miss Helena, I was led to believe that her and Reese had a wonderful relationship, but as the evidence would point, apparently not. As to why she jumped, I do not understand at all. Maybe it was because of Miss Dinah's death. Although she would loath to admit it, Miss Helena truly did care for that young lady. I truly do miss her; she was filled with a wild fire that you only ever get to see so often in a person.  
  
Last was Miss Barbara. It is her who I miss almost as much as Master Bruce. I was her friend, her confident, and she in turn, was mine. I told her things that I had never spoken to another person, but our relationship must have not been close enough. She left me as well, and I do understand why. So much was taken from her, and it was only natural that she broke down eventually.  
  
All of them I had tried to help, as well as I could, and as often as I could. I can only conclude that it was not enough. Perhaps if I had tried harder they would have stayed, but I somehow doubt it. Everything was just too much for them, and it is beginning to become too much for me as well.  
  
How does the old saying go? If you can't beat them join them? I could not do that though, I am far too much of a coward to take my own life, although some may say that it makes me more courageous. The world is a difficult place to live in.  
  
I'm so lonely though. I feel as if my purpose is served, as if there's nothing left for me here. Nobody wants someone of my age, not when they can have someone younger, more able to complete various tasks, able to live longer.  
  
What am I to do? There is nothing, I'm far too old to learn how to do anything else than what I have always known. My life is worthless to everyone around me, they do not know me, and thusly, they do not care. Courtesy, it would appear, is no longer appropriate.  
  
The only question I have left is whether or not I should be a coward. This retirement home is not to my suiting; there is no independence, just strict routine. I have never minded rules and regulations much until now. Bit by bit it drives me insane.  
  
I think that I shall choose the cowards way, I want to leave; I want to be anywhere but here. It's too lonely with the lack of friendly faces. I take one last look around the clock tower where I had served for so long. The rope is tied tightly, and its weight feels good around my neck. I move my weight from side to side, forcing the chair to totter back and forth. Then the rope is taunt, and I can breath no more.  
  
Note: Well, there it is. If you want to send me your opinion, go ahead, I'm not really going to mind all that much, in fact, it'll probably make me happy. 


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